The Legacy
by DarkDevon13
Summary: One of the last survivors of a horrible tragedy, and forever fighting to get out from under the shadow of her namesake, S'Pok must help bring change to her race. A series of one shots inspired by the storyline of 'Legacy of Romulus' Not in order.
1. Chapter 1

_Romulus and Remus are gone. _She_ is one of the survivors, struggling to survive in the aftermath of unspeakable destruction. _

_These are dark and dangerous times for her people, as the Tal Shiar crack down on any dissent and mysterious beings unleash terror throughout the far-flung colony worlds._

_She will be the one to reshape the empire. Gathering allies, going undercover and find the proof that will rally her people to revolt._

_With her allies, she will rise up against an oppressive regime and demand freedom. She will fight for her freedom._

_She is the Legacy of Romulus._


	2. Parent Teacher Meeting

There had been one thing Eras and Lith'in had agreed before deciding on trying to have kids. If they ever went through with it – meaning, if they survived battling the Tal Shiar, if they got even close to a stable durable relationship and if they had a kid without the entire galaxy dying due to sheer horror – they would attempt to be present parents. Not Reman parents or Klingon parents, but just parents.

The kind that could raise their child without sever emotional scarring. The kind that goes to parties and waves at their kid on the stage - even though he or she is dressed in a burlap sack and playing a husk - and assures the person by their side that their kid is the smartest in the entire universe, _don't you agree and seriously, I'm not staring at you like this because I want you agree or else_.

Present, caring parents. Normal parents.

And as present, caring parents, they would even sit in the stuffy waiting room of the Principal's office of the ship's school after they'd gotten and message to come ASAP. Both coming from warrior heritages, they made it a point to always carry weapons with them. Eras tried to ignore the stares his wife got with her Klingon blade-he could never remember all the names. Eventually, the office door opened and Eras and his very _Klingon_ wife breezed inside. When the man asked that they sit down, they did, but not without giving seriously hard glares at him.

"You said this was an emergency," Lith'in started, wasting no more time. Emergency was a heavy word to use in their presence. On a regular basis it involved no less than huge amount of photon torpedoes, disrupter pistols and Tal Shiar, not school related problems. But she was worried, Eras could see, her hands gripping both arms of the chair with a little too much strength. Then again, so was he. "Where is Ce'lana?"

"She's fine, Mrs. Vas Craeteris." Her eyebrow twitched. Eras swallowed a snort. The Principal innocently ignored any visible annoyance from the armed woman questioning him. "We had an incident earlier on. Involving your daughter. It seems she found it appropriate to beat up a boy of her class. Kick his… lower region more than once. Of course, we needed to relay this event to her parents so they'll be aware of the reasons for her suspension."

_Excuse me? Who's suspended again?_

Eras was aware he could be confrontational. Remans were born warriors. It was engraved in his genes, she had to remind herself constantly. But it wasn't practical. While he drew himself from his seat to probably yell at the Principal, Lith'in was already standing, moving towards the closed door with full intent of leaving.

"Yeah, not happening. Not before I speak to Ce'lana and understand what the hell happened."

The man had more guts than Eras would ever give him credit for. He actually left his desk to stand in front of the Klingon Ambassador, likely ignoring – or ignorant – of the way she could smash him against the wall.

"Mrs vas Craeteris, I cannot allow you to!"

She looked at the man up and down. He was taller but that didn't really matter; the way she stared up at him would make anyone feel two feet tall. The man deflated like a balloon full of hot air. "Who are you to stop me from talking to her right now?"

"The principal of this school!"

Was he pulling up record with Lith'in? _Huh._ Stupid. Very very stupid. Klingon warrior. Second heir to the House of Martok. Klingon Fleet Ambassador. It'd be easier to pull rank with the current President of United Earth. Eras didn't bother to hide his emerging grin – not wide but wide enough to show he was enjoying the spectacle – and crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair. Confrontational he might be but nothing made a better show than Lith'in bringing people down.

Priorities. He had them.

"It's Ambassador vas Craeteris," Lith'in corrected carefully.

"But Mrs."

"_Ambassador _vas Craeteris."

_She has a disrupter pistol, Romulan. And no one to ask on whom she uses it. Do you really want to go there?_

The man swallowed slowly and stepped back, returning to his chair before that blue glint on her skin turned into all-out flare and wall dents appeared.

"Ambassador."

_Good boy._

"Good man."

Yes, their patterns of thought were generally the same.

"You can address me as Commander," Eras informed, interrupting the casual way Lith'in was cracking her knuckles. Seriously, did no one have proper life-preservation instincts nowadays? "Ambassador sounds badass. Eras sounds ridiculous. And what my wife means is that you can't allow or disallow us from doing anything." _Besides the fact our best friend runs this ship._

"We're going to speak to daughter and get why this happened," he continued, waving a hand absently. "She's smart enough not to cause trouble without a reason."

"But your child just-"

"My child just did what any smart Klingon kid would have done. In Klingon schools, they categorize this as personality development methods. And I'm pretty sure there are, at least, half a dozen kids who still don't talk to Ce'lana after she learned bad moods equaled biotic throws. I won't have my kid being trampled over by a snotty little brat just because you have your sensitivities over her knowing how to hit the lower region." The Reman chose to ignore the Principal's mumbled _repeatedly, she did it repeatedly, as in, more than once. As in, several times. _Good girl. "By the way, Lith'in,"

"Wasn't me. I told her to hit the face. A black and blue nose is more visible than bruised balls."

Innocence. Klingons just couldn't pull it off.

"Then S'Pok?" S'Pok Havoc, as in Commanding officer of the RRW Vengeance, as in Ce'lana's adoring-yet-completely badass godmother.

"Who else would teach her Romulan anatomy?"

"That's not worrying. What's worrying is Ci's rank in the hierarchy going _up_. Obisek will kill me if she ever enlists. By the way, time to get her into the discussion." In but a moment, he rose from his chair, taking two steps to the side. The door opened with barely a whisper upon his touch and in came the kid who had been leaning against it.

Ce'lana stepped in, her usually bouncy dark curls still, as far as appearances go she took after her mother, only her forehead ridges were more subdued, but from him she got the cutest little pointy ears. She might have been able to look ashamed – as much as anyone raised by the vas Craeteris couple would be – if she was alone. They were not.

Lith'in lowered herself until she was level with the small hybrid's eye level and stared. "Did you do it?" It was a goddamned scary stare; came with practicing on Tal Shiar. It was credit to the strength of his kid how she didn't even blink.

"Yes."

"Were you provoked?"

"They said tha—"

"I asked my kid, Principal. I would wager she knows better than you."

Ce'lana didn't bother to glare at the man. She knew by experience that the one that mattered was both him and her mom; the others' opinions would never sway them. Just her words, nothing else. He was raising his kid well, he truly was. So proud.

"Yes, mom," she replied with the barest hesitation. "But,"

"No buts. What did we say about provocations?"

"Don't reply to them when with witnesses?"

"What _I _said," Lith'in corrected, turning her '_you're so screwed' _glare back onto him. "Not your dad."

"But mom, they called me a flathead! They ganged up on me. I couldn't let them do that."

Everything paused. Everything. Lith'in fell silent, Ce'lana quieted, and Eras turned to the man, not even bothering to think on anything calming, soothing or that would stop him from chopping a snotty little brat with a bat'leth.

"You censored that part." Sounded like a growl. Felt like one. Was one. _Who_ had tried doing_ what _to _his_ kid? _His_ little girl? _What_?

The Principal's chair moved even further back, further enough to make a passable attempt to meld against the wall behind it. And then fell to the ground when Eras beat both hands against the table.

"I want that kid suspended. And the next time you don't listen to whatever my kid's saying and assume her as guilty, I'm going to strap you naked to the target posts over at the Vengeance's shooting range and then dump you corpse in the middle of the Nimbus desert."

"Admiral! Your husband is-"

She likely knew what he was doing. Exactly why she was standing, grabbing her things, holding her hands out to Ce'lana.

"Not with witnesses, remember? Eras. I'll be outside with Ce'lana Come on, Ci, momma needs some chocolate."

And they left without sparing a look at the spineless sample of a man.

He cracked his knuckles and smirked.

The Principal fainted.


	3. Celebration

Celebration

"You mean, _never?_" Virel inquired again, her young eyes wide with shock.

"Nope." S'Pok responded, again, still looking over the results from scanning an nearby dark matter nebula.

"But how could you not?"

The Commander shrugged "There just wasn't much to celebrate growing up."

"But how could you have _never _had a birthday party?" the Reman engineer sounded positively scandalized. S'Pok really didn't see what the big deal was.

"And let me guess, yours was celebrated by parades, floats, maybe a military band?" Virel suddenly started to look flustered.

"Well, no, but father would always let me have a treat after dinner and would let me stay up half an hour later than usual so…" S'Pok sighed. She loved Virel, she really did, but they needed to get these scans done.

"Virel, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but it's fine. I don't need a birthday party to feel good about myself."

"But-" S'Pok interrupted her Chief Engineer.

"No buts, the Vulcan Science Academy asked us to investigate this dark matter nebula and that's exactly what we'll do. Besides, that day we'll be on Vulcan, the first of our people to return their since the Sundering. I don't know about you but that's treat enough for me."

Virel looked like she was going to argue the point further before turning back to her engineering station. S'Pok knew Virel was only nineteen but sometimes she just acted so…_childish_. Turning back to her science counsel, S'Pok wondered what Shi'Kahr would look like this time of year.

* * *

"I can't believe you're doing this Virel," said Hiven, the ship's chief science officer.

"Come on, you know it's a good idea." said Tovan, S'Pok's 'Number One'.

"I'm just saying it sounds risky, who knows what the Commander will do if she finds out."

"Hiven's right, and I don't know about you but I'd rather _not_ find myself being thrown out the airlock." grumbled Doctor Satra Vidas, ship's surgeon.

"Well then, it's a good thing she's _not _going to find out. That's the whole point of it being a _surprise_." Virel counter argued, it was _her_ idea. "Besides, think of all the things the Commander's done for us these past few months. This is the perfect way for us to show our gratitude for her."

Hiven shifted his weight uncomfortably. The girl _did _have a point. He couldn't think of any other Romulan that would've taken the time to listen to a man thrown into the brig. Satra sighed, thinking of her friends from the Helix that were now serving on the ship or safely colonizing Mol'Rihan. She was going to get pushed into this anyway so she might as well do it now.

"Okay then?" Tovan asked diplomatically.

"Okay" Hiven and Satra grumbled.

The planning of S'Pok Havoc's birthday party had now begun.

* * *

While on Vulcan, everyone was expected to be on their best behavior, and since S'Pok would be in meetings with the Science Academy and some other diplomats for the next few days, it would be incredibly easy to sneak all the party planning past her. Everyone was allowed a few hours a day to go out and 'see the sights' as the terran phrase went. Virel, being Reman, was unable to deal with the harsh sunlight, and coordinated everyone from the cool darkness of the ship.

Lith'in, the Klingon Fleet Ambassador, overhearing the plans being made, had demanded to help by ordering twenty cases of bloodwine for the crew of the Renegade to celebrate, and was helping her daughter, Ce'lana, make a decent birthday gift for her favorite godmother.

Satra and Hiven were in charge of getting the gifts, and Hiven's strength was coming in handy with all the packages and parcels the Doc was making him carry everything. She could pretend all she wanted, but he knew Satra loved this. He just hoped the Commander loved his gift, subconsciously adjusting his grip on the small crate.

Eras, the Chief of Operations, was put in charge of finding a place to put the party. With her ready room being too small and the cargo bay to impersonal, the Maltese Falcon, the crew recreational area/ bar was chosen. Varric, the bartender and storyteller extraordinaire, had loved the idea and said he would handle the decorations.

Tovan's job was to keep S'Pok completely unaware of all that was going on. Thankfully, the Commander was so busy with meetings that she barely seemed to notice anything was going on. Right then she'd been particularly thoughtful on a meeting she'd just had with a Vulcan Elder, T'Val.

The turbolift's doors open and the Commander of the Renegade was greeted with a loud 'SURPRISE' from most of the crew. She looked absolutely startled, and then almost angry.

"Tovan.." The First Officer raised his hands in defense, but he was saved from a brutal tongue-lashing from his Commander by Ce'lana, who ran up to her godmother and gave her a Klingon-grade hug. S'Pok smiled and gave the Reman-Klingon hybrid a squeeze back. She then lifted the little girl onto her shoulder and wadded into the crowd of friends and well-wishers.

Suddenly, S'Pok heard a barking noise and turned her head to see Hiven holding a small and furry… creature. It was strange to see her normally gruff and manly chief science officer holding something so… cute.

"Hiven… what is that?" he suddenly looked shy for a moment.

"Well, when we were on Vulcan…I- that is I mean to say-"

"He got you a Sehlat cub. Apparently he thought that you needed another little thing following you around." Satra said, coming out of seemingly nowhere. Hiven blushed bright green. S'Pok kneeled down to get a look at the Sehlat. She'd heard of them, they were a Vulcan pet that bared a resemblance to a terran bear, and were known to be extremely loyal to their masters. The beast gave her a few investigative sniffs before nuzzling into her. Ce'lana laughed in approval.

"Thank you, Hiven, I love it." She gave the gruff man a peck on the cheek, and he seemed to blush even further. Ce'lana seemed to be making a new friend with the cub, who was currently licking her to tears from laughing so hard.

. S'Pok was then approached by Virel, whom she'd learned was the organizer of this little gathering.

"So, Virel…" The young Reman looked like a deer in the headlights, probably terrified that the Commander would yell at her for doing this behind her back.

"Same time next year?" the girl looked up, obviously expecting a reprimand for her actions. The Reman then smiled.

"Of course, sir." S'Pok nodded before noticing some of the guests starting to nudge her towards the gifts, which had been piled on a table in the corner of the room. At least grateful the _entire _ship hadn't gotten her a gift, she noticed only about eight packages of various sizes and shapes. Aware of the Terran custom, S'Pok picked up a large-sized parcel wrapped in blue paper with a yellow bow and shook it gently. Smiling, she began to tear off the wrapping paper that revealed a 3D chess set. And just when she was about to give in and buy herself a new one.

"Who sent this?" Virel looked at the present a moment before smiling, "_That _Commander is courtesy of Starfleet." The Reman winked, and S'Pok realized that by Starfleet, she actually meant Lt Commander Kara Jayden, who was an officer _in _Starfleet.

"Here, open this one next," Satra said, giving her a smaller parcel, wrapped in red paper. Setting the chess set aside, S'Pok noticed this one was particularly light, and that Ce'lana was grinning at her expectantly. Smiling back at her, S'Pok found the gift was a Klingon Friendship Band, obviously hand-made.

"Mommy helped me make it." The little girl said, proud of herself. S'Pok gave her a big hug as a thank-you.

After that, the gifts had flowed in one long continuum. From Satra, she'd received a new science tricoder (a bit impersonal, but appreciated). Ruri, her Orion friend in the KDF, had sent her a bottle of Bloodwine, probably a reminder of the last time she'd drank Klingon bloodwine, and had woken up in sickbay with the biggest hangover in the Quadrant. Tovan had given her a Romulan Honor Blade, something that she'd gasped at when she saw, she stuck it on her utility belt right away, right next to her disrupter pistol. Virel was the last one to approach her with a gift, a cylinder with recordings of different styles of music from all over the Alpha Quadrant.

The party continued for several hours, until Lith'in and Eras had decided that their little girl had to turn in for the night. Ce'lana stubbornly insisted she wasn't tired, but the shadows under her eyes gave her away and didn't resist when Eras lifted her up to carry her to bed. Shortly after that, S'Pok had decided that it was about time that she should head up to bed too, despite protests from some of the guests. Taking up her new Sehlat cub, and the box of presents, S'Pok realized that she would probably have to start celebrating holidays more often.

That night, the Sehlat cub cuddled close to her as she slept.


	4. Tal Shiar Borg Adapted Battle Cruiser

D'Tan was working at his desk when the alarms went off.

"All hands to battle stations! Repeat all hands to battle stations!" Admiral Kererek's voice came over the intercom, sounding concerned, but not frantic. D'Tan raced towards the bridge of the flagship that served as the Flotilla's command center. When he reached there, he saw what had the Admiral so concerned. On the forward viewscreen was a Tal Shiar Borg Adapted Battle Cruiser, armed to the teeth and headed straight for them.

The Admiral continued to bark out orders when a young sub lieutenant at the Comm station interrupted him. "Uh, sir," He said sheepishly, "They're hailing us." D'Tan and Kererek looked at each other. It was well known throughout the fleet that D'Tan preferred diplomacy over all, preferring to talk rather than fight.

"Onscreen." When they saw who was on the other side of the transmission, the entire bridge let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Commander," Kererek said, "This is quite a surprise." The youthful face of Commander S'Pok Havoc filled the viewscreen Her first officer, Sub Commander Tovan Khev, stood quietly off to the side. Commander Havoc was a full blooded Romulan woman who barely looked old enough to be a Sub Lieutenant, let alone the Commander of a Warbird. Her youth was set off by her white hair, giving her nickname of 'The Albino' she had recently added lavender highlights, not exactly military but good enough. Her ship, the _Skyrim_ was an old T'Liss design that she and her friends had used to fight in the Battle of Virinat. She had taken command despite a complete lack of experience.

"I hope we didn't scare you too badly, Admiral." The older man smiled.

"Not to bad of one, Commander, although it was only natural given the circumstances. Would you mind telling us how you acquired a Tal Shiar Borg Cruiser?"

"Found her floating in dry dock in the Tal Shiar station. It seemed unwise not to liberate her for the Flotilla."

"And the _Skyrim_?" They young Commander's face sobered.

"Destroyed. We beamed everyone out to the Tal Shiar vessel before setting the self-destruct sequence. She died taking out an Elachi flagship."

"My commiserations, she was a good ship," S'Pok nodded but said nothing. "Casualties?"

"Some cuts and bruises, the worst being an engineer with a bad plasma burn. We all made it out in one piece, more or less."

"That's always reassuring to hear." There was an awkward silence for about five seconds before Havoc spoke up.

"So, is the _Renegade _cleared for docking?"

"The _Renegade?_"

"We took a vote on the way over. It was tied between that and the _Vengeance_. I had to use my executive vote to break the tie." D'Tan and Kererek smiled, but there was something else that they would need to discuss with the young Commander, something that was better to be said in person.

"Can you promise us that ship isn't about to assimilate us into the Collective?" S'Pok didn't miss a beat.

"My Chief Engineer and her staff aren't entirely through checking everything, but so far she assures me that it's safe to operate- despite the obvious risk factors."

D'Tan nodded, not entirely convinced and not sure what to think. Using Borg technology was like playing a game of Russian Roulette, risky to say the least, but the potential benefits were undeniable. "Report to my office when the _Renegade _is in range." Havoc nodded and cut the transmission. He let out a sigh, one way or the other, bringing the _Renegade _to the fleet was going to change things, he only hoped it was for the better.

The meeting with D'Tan and the Admiral wasn't pretty, but then again, nothing was ever pretty for the nascent Republic.

"You realize that you've put us in an extremely precarious position, Commander Havoc."

"I do sirs," Said S'Pok, all business.

"The use of Borg technology is outlawed by both the Federation and the Klingon Empire. We're only just beginning to earn their trust, and if we allow use of the Borg ship, it will undo all of that. D'Tan said; more agitated that S'Pok had ever seen him.

"But we also have to consider the fact that the Republic is in desperate need of ships," Admiral Kererek added. "And that this ship offers us a unique tactical advantage. Imagine, a ship we can use to sneak almost undetected behind enemy lines. A ship with an entire database filled with information on Tal Shiar movements. A ship with entirely unique weapons that we could use against them!"

"But the risks-" D'Tan started to protest.

"There's no such thing as a risk-free war." Admiral Kererek said. D'Tan slumped slightly in defeat.

"You have six months, Commander. _Six months_. And if you haven't proven that your ship is one of the best in the fleet, not to mention the least dangerous to operate, we're launching it into a nearby sun, tactical advantage or no tactical advantage."

S'Pok smiled inwardly. "Yes sir."

_Six months later_

Proconsul D'Tan looked out over the balcony of the Mol'Rihan command center. Virgin forest spread out far as the eye could see, with the occasional farmhouse scattered in. The land here was rich and fertile, ideal for growing crops, and at the moment, that was what hundreds of colonists and settlers were doing. The harvest season was a long ways away, and until then, the people were hard at work tending their fields.

They had some progress in urban development as well. The Federation, convinced by Ambassador Nalah Havoc, had sent supplies and shipments that had gone a long way towards building the new capital city of Raptor, after the symbol of the Romulan people.

Everyone had played a part in the development so far, but none had such a large role as the Commander of the _Renegade_. Less than a week after becoming a member of the fleet, the _Renegade_ had been sent on a vital mission to search for a suitable home world in the Tau Dewa sector. Finding not only a beautiful forest world, rich with resources, but also the Sword of the Raptor Star. Forged by a Vulcan swordmaster before the time of Sundering, it had great cultural significance for the Romulan people.

As for the Federation and the Klingon Empire, they hadn't asked about the specifications or origin of the _Renegade_, and D'Tan hadn't told them. As far as the two governments were concerned, the _Renegade_ was a prototype ship that was in use by the Romulan Republic. He didn't dissuade them off that belief.

The ship's Commander had a fierce reputation with both governments. The Klingons respecter her as a warrior, fierce and unscrupulous in battle. The Federation, while currently ticked off at her for choosing not to arrest Obisek, saw her as a starship Captain that go the job done. Indeed, Nalah Havoc had told him that while speaking of her daughter's ship to Federation High Command, they associated the term 'Renegade' with both the ship and its captain.

D'Tan heartily agreed.


	5. Breaking Broom

_Lith'in, it appears you are pregnant._

With those six little words, the lives of Eras and Lith'in Vas Craeteris changed forever. After the check-up with Satra Vedas, the ship's Chief Medical Officer, the couple walked back to their quarters. They were silent for about five minutes. Through his telepathy, Eras felt the vague shape of Lith'in's thoughts but made no attempt to listen to them.

"Eras," she said at last.

"Yes?" he replied, still lost in his own thoughts

"I want to marry you in the Reman manner."

His eyes widened in surprised "We do not have to do that, we took the Vow, which is legally binding and accepted," He paused. "And, compared to that Reman marriage seems… redundant and kind of silly"

"How so?"

Eras really wished he didn't have to talk about it. "As you know, Remans were the undesirable class of Romulan society, and as such we weren't allowed to do anything on our own. That included coming up with our own marriage ceremonies."

"Why?"

"The Empire's laws stated only government officials could officiate, but since none would ever come to Remus, or want anything to do with us, we had to come up with our own… traditions."

"Like what?"

"Well, the tradition differed from region to region, but the generally accepted way was to… jump over a broom."

"A broom?" Picturing two Remans jumping over an antiquated cleaning device was humorous to say the least, and not to mention embarrassing. "I was merely asking because, well, Verrill told me how low morale is on the Vault, I was merely thinking this might be something to increase it. Besides," she said, pausing a moment. "I want this little one to come into the world the child of _married_ parents. In the off chance we decide to raise her as a Reman instead of a Klingon."

The more that Eras thought about it, the more he realized that his wife was right. His friends at the Vault hadn't seen action in weeks. While, in theory, that was a good thing, stagnation wasn't something a Resistance movement could do for long. "You're right. Slavek was just telling me that the boys had little to do anymore now that the Vault's up and running. This would be the perfect opportunity to increase morale, not to mention start some traditions of our own." He said, his hand smoothing over Lith'in's belly.

"The Commander could marry us." She suggested. "Though would you really want a Romulan officiating our wedding? Not that there's anything wrong with Commander Havoc as a person but-" she stopped, knowing better than to bring up the bad blood between the Romulans and the Remans. Eras stopped walking. If the Commander were to wed them, it would represent a new chapter in Romulan-Reman relations. No longer master and slave, but as equals, and as friends. D'Tan would certainly approve, and it was well known that Obisek respected S'Pok as a warrior and as an ally in battle.

"Lith'in, daughter of D'Ghor, would you be willing to marry me?"

The said Klingon warrior smiled.

After showering and changing again Lith'in sat and let Verrill untangle her hair with the help of generous amounts of hair conditioner. Even though- or perhaps because- the young woman had no hair of her own, she seemed fascinated with all who did, and that included Lith'in's wild curls. As the Reman combed and smoothed, Lith'in idly sorted through her jewelry box, pulling out rings and trying them on experimentally.

"Looking for something?" the engineer inquired.

"Eras and I are getting married in the Reman way," she remarked. "I was looking to see if I had any rings that would fit him." Rings would accomplish what bite marks did, and in a less… revealing manner.

Verrill froze, brush in hand. "When!?"

Lith'in glanced up and met the girl's eyes in the mirror. "When what?"

"When are you marrying him!?"

Lith'in blinked. "Well, the Commander can marry us whenever really, but we really wanted to do it at the Vault. Given the Renegade has to go to that sector anyway, so we thought it would be an opportune time."

"Lith'in. I have been very understanding in that because you're a Klingon and you and Eras were married in the Klingon way with no proper ceremony. But if you are going to marry Eras in the Reman way, I _will _be present. I _will _plan it, and you _will _wear a gown and not your uniform." Lith'in frowned. She had indeed intended to wear her uniform.

Lith'in gave a true Klingon growl in frustration at her reflection. For some reason beyond all comprehension, her dress was being a complete Ghuy'cha, combined with all the other pre-wedding stress of the past week, it was really getting on her already frayed nerves. She heard her door chime. "Come!" She called, her voice sounding annoyed, even to her.

"Something wrong?" called a familiar voice. In stepped Commander S'Pok Havoc, Lith'in's friend and blood sister. She wore her usual green militia uniform that had obviously been given a good scrubbing. Given that Romulan High Command was currently far more occupied with the Tal Shiar and the Tholians, they hadn't gotten a chance to issue dress uniforms.

"Your finely tuned Romulan senses tell you that?"

"Well, that and the mirror." Lith'in didn't say anything as S'Pok stepped over the broken shards of glass from the vanity. Coming up behind her, she held the two rouge pieces of cloth together and forcefully clasped them together. Verrill had dragged her to the only tailor on the Renegade to get fitted for a wedding dress. Communicating with her mother Agora over subspace, she'd decided on a custom wedding dress with traditional Klingon _and _Reman trappings.

"This _Ghuy'cha _of a dress won't fit!"

"Just suck in your stomach," Urged her friend.

The Klingon fleet ambassador growled but obliged, S'Pok grabbed the sides of the front of the uniform and pulled with both her thumbs. Lith'in mumbled something in Klingon that S'Pok was pretty sure she didn't want translated before saying "That (another Klingon swear) of a tailor must have gotten my measurements wrong."

"Of course" S'Pok said in a placating tone, whilst silently glancing down at the Ambassador's abdomen. Though most humanoid species didn't start showing until the second trimester, everyone was placing bets on when Lith'in would start showing off the baby bump. It was common knowledge that Klingons never did anything small, and Satra had admited (after some goading on S'Pok's part) that Klingon children grew quickly, even whilst still inside the womb.

The door chimed.

"Enter!" the Commander called. Lith'in raised her eyebrow and shot her a look in the mirror at her presumption. These weren't her quarters. If anyone was going to be issuing invitations, it was her.

"Who is it!" she called out.

"It's me! Your Maiden of Honor!"Verill replied excitedly. Lith'in rolled her eyes, the only reason that she'd made Verrill her Maid of Honor was when she'd heard that they took care of most of the silly wedding planning stuff.

"It's _Maid _of Honor, Verrill, and if it was Maiden you would be the only one on the ship that was remotely qualified." She said. Verrill blushed and S'Pok rolled her eyes.

"Nice dress, Verrill," the Commander said diplomatically, indicating the dress that the Chief Engineer was wearing. It was a darker color, like all other items of clothing the Reman owned, but it was a dark blue with green trim instead of her usual black-on-black. It was simple in style, and in combination with the hood she usually wore, it made her look like a monk to say the least.

The engineer nodded, and then there was an awkward pause before she said. 'Aren't we supposed to drink ale or something before a wedding? Or maybe some bloodwine?"

"Yes, I suppose." S'Pok said, growing up the daughter of Nalah Havoc, who was currently the Romulan Ambassador to the Federation had probably given her some of the best manners the quadrant.

Lith'in was tempted. She wouldn't have minded a drink or twelve.

"However, probably not a keen idea under the circumstances."

"Circumstances?" Verrill asked with a confused look.

Lith'in mentally kicked herself for not getting the girl up to speed on everything. S'Pok sent her a look.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

Verrill inhaled sharply. _"By the Elements!"_ she exclaimed in the Reman dialect. _"How?!"_

Lith'in raised an eyebrow. "The usual way," she remarked.

"But… That shouldn't work," she glanced at S'Pok. "Should it?"

Wisely, the Commander left that alone.

"Doctor Vedas merely said that the chances of Eras and I getting pregnant were slim. She _didn't_ say that it was impossible. It certainly wasn't for lack of trying." Verrill blushed again

Lith'in was in her dress with one Reman braiding her hair, and a Romulan doing her nails when perhaps fifteen minutes later the door opened again.

Her husband stood frozen in the doorway with Tovan at his side. Their matching expressions were hilarious.

"Err… maybe we should've knocked Eras."

"Isn't it unlucky or something to see the bride before the wedding?" Lith'in said, trying to sound like a big, tough, Klingon despite the fact she was being pampered like a Risan princess. Thankfully, S'Pok closed the bottle on the nail polish and moved to stand in front of her.

"What do you need Eras."

"You do realize that these are also my quarters?"

"Yeah, I _was _the one who issued them to you."

"Then you should find it no surprise that my clothing is in here."

"Of course Eras. Your dress uniform?" she asked.

"Yes,"

S'Pok nodded. "I'll grab it for you." She then promptly closed the door in Tovan and Eras' faces. She went into the small walk in closet, grabbed the uniform and returned it to the Reman. Lith'in gave him a little wave as S'Pok shut the door in his face yet again.

S'Pok stood up at the front of the forward observation deck. It wasn't the largest space on the Vault, that would be the Hanger deck, but it was definitely the nicest room for any sort of gathering to be held. Behind her the long transparent windows showed an endless sea of stars. A pretty decent backdrop for a wedding in her opinion. She rocked back and forth on her-for once- shining leather boots. The place was _packed_. Everyone not on duty- on the ship and on the space station had wanted to attend. In the end Obisek had arranged for the ceremony to be shown on view screens in the rec rooms for the curious. Lith'in had been right, the news of the wedding between Eras and the Klingon fleet Ambassador had done wonders for the Vault's morale.

Though the couple had originally came to S'Pok, the Romulan Commander was more than willing to hand over responsibilities to her Reman counterpart. Obisek had refused, claiming his faith that S'Pok would be able to handle the responsibilities.

The bridge crew and Eras' closest friends from the Vault were all present of course, as was her mother. Upon the news of her daughter's impending nuptials, Agora had jumped on a fast ship for Romulan space, ignoring the fact she had to go headlong through Federation territory in a time of war to get there. Knowing better than to get in the way of a Klingon mother, Federation High Command had let her go through relatively unimpeded- with an escort, of course. Tall and muscular, like her daughter, she had a waspish regalness to her that Lith'in didn't.

Turning to her side to the groom-to-be, S'Pok looked over Eras, looking downright handsome in his dress uniform- apparently that was what he called the dark uniform that the Reman army wore during the brief coup of Praetor Shinzon. He was motionless and way too relaxed looking for a man at his own wedding, staring out at the stars sedately. Maybe that was because he'd done this before.

But whatever.

It was a good look on him.

Eras turned slightly towards the doorway. S'Pok looked past him down the aisle. As if on cue Lith'in appeared in the doorway with Verrill at her side and Satra behind her. The Klingon wore a dress robe thing that was mostly white with some red and black trim. The only thing remotely Klingon about the whole thing was the Klingon knife thing strapped to her side. (Apparently it was on her mother's suggestion)The ship's surgeon wore a lovely blue evening dress with a white shawl around her shoulders that made her look attractive- in a homely sort of way. It was weird seeing her out of her doctor's jacket and into something formal for a change.

When Lith'in stood before her, husband in hand, it was suddenly deathly silent. S'Pok cleared her throat, praying she'd get this right.

"Since the days of the first seafaring vessels, all shipmasters have had one momentous privilege," She started, using the authoritative speaking voice she'd perfected for addressing the crew. "That is, being able to unite two people in the bonds of matrimony. We are gathered here today with you, Lith'in, daughter of D'Ghor of Qo'noS, and you, Eras Vas Craeteris, in the sight of your fellows," she allowed a brief pause for the crew of the Vault to yell in approval, "In accordance with Starfleet Code 230.5a that we're borrowing for the occasion," Again, a small pause for laughter. "And your two beliefs so that you may pledge your lives together in marriage."

The wedding ceremony continued in a similar manner, with Eras and Lith'in respectively giving vows of love and devotion to one another, with a little Klingon thrown in here and there.

"By the power vested in me by the High Command of the Romulan Republic, I now pronounce you husband and wife, Eras," she said, reaching behind her, "You may now break the broom." The crowd burst into laughter as S'Pok handed the Reman the antiquated cleaning device. With a quick snap, it was broken in two.

And, of course, he kissed the bride.

The cheers could be heard all through the lower decks.


End file.
